by Golden Angel
Sarah turned to see Derrick, standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, watching her and Angela. Tall, dark and studly indeed. Today he was wearing a crisp light blue shirt button down shirt that highlighted exactly how dreamily dark his skin was, the contrast between the two was startling and sexy. The shirt was untucked and he was wearing it with jeans that fit without being too tight. Even with the looser shirt, compared to the t-shirt that he'd worn to her house - it was obvious how well muscled he was. Just looking at him made Sarah's insides clench and reminded her of exactly how many times she'd masturbated to fantasies of him in her shower over that past week.
"That's Q's cousin Derrick, he's here to help me with a few things and I have no idea."
Something in her voice must have given her repressed sensuality away, or maybe it was the slightly delayed and weak wave she gave him after he raised his hand in greeting, because Gloria turned to look at her with a little sparkle in her eyes.
"Help you with what?"
"Now don't you go getting ideas," Sarah said, hating that her cheeks were rapidly heating up. "He's helping me with some things from Martin's estate. There is absolutely nothing going on that would be disrespectful to Martin's memory."
Gloria smiled at her. "Of course not. Although I seriously doubt Martin would have minded, he never struck me as the kind of guy who would want you to grieve forever. There was more sexual tension in the look you just gave that man than I ever saw between you and Martin."
"Just what do you know about sexual tension?" asked Sarah, a little crossly, glaring at the young woman. She giggled, completely irrepressible.
"I'm twenty-tive, not fifteen anymore," Gloria said, teasing. "Oh look, he's talking to Cara!"
Derrick had been enjoying watching the sexy widow far too much as she talked to the young redheaded server. Walking in through the employee entrance, he'd been able to get a good look at the kitchen and then an even better look at Sarah's - the Widow's - backside when he'd walked into the dining room. A wonderfully curvy backside that was snugly encased in denim, wrapped around her slim little legs and emphasizing her hips. The t-shirt that she was wearing hugged her body, showing nothing and hinting at everything. Her long auburn hair was tied back into a simple ponytail, begging to be released. Or used as... never mind. Fortunately the two women hadn't seen him right away and he'd been able to drink in his fill before Sarah had turned and he'd waved his greeting. It looked like they were pretty involved in the conversation, so he'd been waiting patiently for her to finish when a snappy little woman with grey-streaked black hair had come up and demanded to know what he was doing there.
All the other chefs that he'd seen had been wearing black chef coat, but hers was white and said Moretti on it, so he knew this had to be the Executive Chef. Treating her with proper deference and complimenting the smells from the kitchen had turned her from a plump little firecracker to a happy Italian momma who wanted to feed him. He let her drag him back into the kitchen, to get away from The Widow a little bit, and also because he figured that this woman would probably have some of the goods on Vincent and Martin.
As he tasted her pesto sauce and the bruschetta tomato mix, he started adroitly questioning her.
"Martin was a very good boss," she said. "He knew when to leave me alone and when to steer me. I don't know what's going to happen now that he's gone. Sarah's very good, she knows more than she thinks she does, but I don't know if she's interested in staying with us."
"What happens if Vincent takes over?"
Cara scowled. "I hope he doesn't. He's lazy. That's why Martin never gave him much responsibility. But you couldn't separate the two of them and they never-"
Her lips clamped shut.
"Here," she said, lifting a hand-rolled sausage to his mouth. "Try this, it's my own special recipe."
Derrick didn't press, but he'd be a pretty shoddy detective if that hadn't made it obvious that something else was going on. Something that Cara knew about, but that she didn't want other people knowing. Protecting someone. Probably not Vincent. Martin's memory perhaps? Or Sarah?
"Mmmm delicious. I haven't tasted anything quite like it... secret recipe?" he asked, and Cara nodded, her eyes sparkling. "I taste oregano, basil, rosemary, garlic, and - cumin?" Delighted, Cara nodded again, laughing at his knowledge. "Something else though, what?"
"Ah, that's the secret!" she said, laughing.
"And good luck trying to get it out of her," said a smooth, soft voice to their right. Both of them turned to see Sarah standing there. Looking damn near as edible as the sausage, as far as Derrick was concerned. As she came closer Cara held out her arms and the two women hugged a hello. "I can't tell you how many times I've tried to get her drunk enough to spill, but she always passes out before telling me!"
Derrick chuckled as Cara let out a throaty laugh.
"I bet it makes for a popular restaurant," he said, smoothly changing the subject but keeping it to topics that he wanted more information about. "No wonder Q won't leave."
"Very busy," said Cara. "Especially on the weekends. Last weekend we did over two hundred tables a night."
Sarah smiled at her. "It's a good place to work, we have pretty good employee retention."
"Everyone loved Martin," said Cara. "And you. You have good managers. And me."
"You're the important one," said Sarah, winking.
"Yes I am and now I have important things that need to be done, so you two scat."
As the chef bustled off, Sarah thought she saw Cara wink. She was probably just imagining things though. Turning towards Derrick, she tried not to let her gaze linger over his body as he leaned against the stainless steel counter where they expedited the food. Now that Cara was gone, even though there were people moving all around them, she suddenly felt very alone with him. The sensation was more than a little unsettling. Being around him made her so nervous.
"So um... the office is this way," she said, gesturing with her hand. He shifted his weight forward to standing position, and put out his hand, indicating she should lead the way. Trying not to feel too anxious about having him at her back, looming behind her, Sarah started walking.
Even though Derrick had already noted the location of the manager's office there was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity to follow behind Sarah and watch that delectable ass move. The jeans she was wearing hugged her curves, showing off the bounciness of the firm bubble of her butt as she moved. Seeing Sarah walking away from him really made him understand the country song he'd heard one time at a bar - "We' hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave!"
Past the stoves and in the hallway filled with employee lockers that led to the office, Vincent was standing with one of the younger servers. She was trapped between his arms, which were placed on the lockers right next to either side of her shoulders.
"Vincent? Brandy?" Sarah asked. "What's going on?"
Immediately Vincent jolted back, as if the server had punched him, although the young woman just stood there with her big blue eyes, still pressed against the locker. Sarah hurried to them, forgetting about the man following behind her.
"We were just having a discussion on proper restaurant etiquette," said Vincent, shoving his hands in his pockets lazily. Brandy pursed her lips, looking upset, but if she'd been getting lectured that wouldn't be entirely surprising. Sarah frowned and was about to ask Brandy to come into the office and talk with her when Vincent looked over her shoulder. "Who's that?"
Sarah turned. "Oh, sorry. This is Derrick, Q's cousin. He's helping me with some of Martin's estate things."
"Oh?" Vincent looked the other man up and down challengingly. Derrick just smiled and held out his hand.
"You must be Vincent, nice to meet you."
Although Vincent looked slightly mollified at being recognized that didn't stop him from trying to shake Derrick's hand with a crushing grip. However, even though Vincent wasn't in bad shape, Derrick was in great shape. He just grinned and let the other man
do what he wanted. No need to get into power games with this idiot.
"Brandy, go help Gloria," Sarah said. She was concerned, but she also needed some privacy right now. Whether or not Vincent was lecturing Brandy on something, the way he had been holding himself over her like that worried Sarah. But she couldn't dress down management for that in front of the server. "I'll talk to you later. Derrick, the management office is right there, go ahead in." Vincent turned to her with an outraged look in his eyes, but Sarah stared him down and spoke before he could. "Vincent, I'd like a word with you."
Derrick had to admire the way Sarah took immediate control of the situation. He hadn't liked the predatory body language Vincent had been displaying over that young woman. It seemed like perhaps he hadn't learned much from the accusations of sexual harassment when he was in college. Derrick would have to give Sarah - crap, The Widow - a heads up about that, as soon as possible. Obviously she'd realized something was wrong, but he wasn't sure if she knew Vincent's history. Would that be something her husband would have told her? Either way, she was a little pistol when she wanted to get something done. No wonder she and Cara got along so well, they were cut from the same clothe, only from The Widow it was surprising and delightful when that side of her came out. With Cara it was out all the time. He sat down at the desk in the office, metal and plastic, nothing like Martin's desk back home, and started looking around.
"Vincent, I'm not sure if you realized this," Sarah said, temporizing a little, "but the way you were talking to Brandy was completely inappropriate. You had her trapped against the lockers."
"Oh?" His question invited her to continue, the contemptuous tone in his voice said she didn't know what she was talking about.
"You can't talk to employees like that, even if you are lecturing them. It looked entirely unprofessional," Sarah said, laying down the law as she saw it.
Vincent drew himself up, looking affronted. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
She bit the inside of her cheek. Since she hadn't talked to Brandy yet, of course she didn't know if she had any basis to suggest anything, but she knew how leering and inappropriate Vincent could be first hand. "I'm not suggesting anything," she said finally. "I'm saying that you might not have realized what it looked like, but it was inappropriate."
"I'm sorry," said Vincent, surprising her with his apology. "I certainly didn't mean to do anything that would make you jealous."
Her mouth dropped open in complete shock. "Jealous?!"
"Well yes, sweetheart," Vincent said, moving closer to her. Sarah stepped back immediately, trying to maintain her personal space. Vincent just looked at her and smirked, as if she was playing hard to get rather than feeling in discomfort. "We both know that there's always been some tension between us."
"You're wrong," she said. It was the only thing she could think of to say. Her stomach twisted with nausea, rejecting his words for the completely fabrications that they were. Not once in her entire life had she ever been attracted to Vincent.
"Now sweetheart, you know that's not true," he said. Even though he remained standing right where he was, Sarah still felt like stepping back a pace. The smarmy look in his blue eyes made her feel dirty. "You can't try to say that you're holding onto Martin's memory, I know very well that you two didn’t really satisfy each other."
What had Martin said about her, what had he confessed to this man? Sarah really was starting to feel like she was going to vomit.
"I could satisfy you Sarah," said Vincent, leering at her. Her skin prickled, making her want to take a shower. Would she ever be able to wash off the feeling of him mentally undressing her as his eyes flowed down her body. She was now extremely grateful that she'd worn such covering clothes today. If she'd been wearing something sexy she couldn't have withstood the urge to run.
"I don't know what Martin told you, but it doesn't matter," Sarah said, lying. She was dying to know what Martin had told him, but damned if she'd give him that satisfaction. "I have no interest in you. Never have, never will. You cannot and will not satisfy me. Ever."
Vincent's eyes flashed with anger. "Then who?" Suddenly he sneered, his eyes darting towards the door to the management office, only twenty feet away. "Him?"
"No," she said coolly, unable to suppress the flash of heat that went through her. Vincent's eyes narrowed at the flush in her cheeks. "Not that it's any of your business."
"What is he doing here anyway?" Vincent finally asked, realizing that it was odd that she'd let Q's cousin into the office by himself. "Are you fulfilling a sex at work fantasy?"
The crassness of Vincent's words made her flinch. Especially because as soon as he said it, she did have a quick vision of exactly that... Derrick pounding into her, holding her up against the office door. Her pale lily-white hands grabbing his shoulders and hanging on for dear life.
"I told you, he's helping me with some things for Martin's estate?"
"What things?" Vincent asked. Had he paled? "What does he do?"
"I'm a private investigator," said Derrick, his deep rich voice rolling through the hallway. Sarah glanced up to see him standing in the doorway to the office. Her pussy gave a little throb as the vision of them having sex against the door whispered through her mind again.
Derrick was interested to see Vincent blanch at finding out his occupation.
"What are you investigating?" Vincent demanded, bristling visibly. Using anger to hide his reaction, possibly?
"Just some things about the estate," Derrick said mildly. He looked at Sarah. "I'm done here. Thanks for letting me look through the offices."
"Offices?" Vincent asked. His body was tensing visibly.
Derrick nodded. "Yes, I’ve looked through the one here and Martin's at home."
The silence dragged out for a minute and then Vincent nodded. Even though he was now keeping his emotions tightly contained, Derrick recognized the slight relaxation of Vincent's facial muscles. That was relief. Carefully hidden.
"Well good," Vincent said finally. "I have things to do. Goodbye."
He nodded and turned on his heel, stalking very quickly to the employee entrance. Sarah shifted on her feet back and forth, trying to get her own emotions under control. She roiled with anxiety, disgust with herself, a slight tinge of fear of Vincent, shame that she was attracted to Derrick and the unsettling feeling that something important had just happened and she'd missed it.
Derrick smiled down at her, adding another jolt of sexual arousal to the chaotic mix inside of her.
"Actually, I need to come back over and look through Martin's office again, if that's okay," he said.
Sarah nodded, feeling numb. Have Derrick in her house again? But if he needed to... There was no way to deny that her body responded to him in ways that it shouldn't. Hearing Vincent talk about her and Derrick that way had just made her feel even more ashamed. Not that she should care what he thought, but what would everyone else think if they knew she was having sexual fantasies about a man that she'd just met, only a month after Martin had died? Heck, she judged herself for it, she didn't need anyone else to. And Vincent's words had sullied the fantasy for her, at least for now. Although her body was still attracted.
"We can go now," she said. Might as well get it over with and get him out, as quickly as possible. Then she remembered Brandy. "Oh, wait, I wanted to talk to Brandy before I go."
"Ah, Sarah," Derrick said as she started to turn. Sarah looked back at him. "I don't have any proof of this on me, and there haven't been reports in years, but in college there were some reports filed against Vincent for sexual harassment. Innocent until proven guilty, but the way he looked with her wasn't good."
Sarah's lips tightened. That rat bastard, she thought. But then she clamped down on the reaction. It's possible he was just lecturing Brandy and it looked bad. She wasn't going to let herself judge just because she didn't like him, not until she talked to the girl.
Leaving Derrick in the kitchen, Sarah headed out int
o the dining room, beckoning to Brandy. On her way over to Sarah, Angela joined her. Sarah gave Angela a questioning look but didn't say anything.
"Brandy," Sarah said, feeling like she was kicking a puppy. The sweet-faced twenty year old was staring at her feet. "Brandy, can you look at me?"
The expression on Brandy's face, once she lifted it, was pure fear. Fear of being fired? Or fear of not being believed?
"It's okay sweetheart, no matter what you say you're not going to be in trouble," Sarah said. She looked around and then grabbed a chair, pushing it towards Brandy, and then grabbed one for Angela and one for herself. Across the room she could see Gloria looking over at them, concerned, but for once she didn't come over to find out what was going on. Sarah could feel her muscles tensing. This couldn't be good. "Can you tell me what you and Vincent were talking about?"
Brandy's voice was so soft that Sarah had to lean forward to hear it. "He was talking to me about how I liked working here and how I was doing, and then he started asking me about my personal life and if I was getting enough time off to have a life... and then he asked me if I had a boyfriend. I was getting uncomfortable and I told him that was none of his business and I tried to leave, and that's when he trapped me against the lockers. He was saying that after a shift sometime he and I should get a drink, and that's when you came."
Tapping her foot, Sarah gnawed on her lip. Definitely inappropriate. And Vincent had lied, she was sure that Brandy was the one telling the truth. But at the same time, he hadn't quite pushed the bounds of sexual harassment. What could she do in a situation like this?
"He's getting worse," said Angela. Sarah raised her eyes to the young woman, who was looking at her with a steady gaze. "Over the past month. Ever since Martin died. It used to be he'd only hit on us when he was drunk. He just barely tiptoes the line of what can be reported and what can't. Now he's getting closer to crossing it."
"Did anyone tell Martin about this?"
"We tried... he didn't want to hear anything bad about Vincent. But he knew, I think he just thought he could keep a handle on him."